Negativity turned loose. Negativity going wild. Negativity screaming with laughter. With itself.

The power of negation. That shows itself as laughter. That tears it open: the human sky. The sky above us. The sky into which we laugh. We always laugh into the sky.

It's the sky that receives our laughter. The real sky. Not the satellited sky. Not the Skynetted sky. Not the chem-trailed sky. Not the full-of-nanoparticulates sky. Not the all-set-up-for-holograms sky. Not prepared-for-the-fake-Second-Coming sky.

The real sky, which is a tear in the fake sky. Which is the crack in the old sky. The tearing of which is the apocalypse – our apocalypse.

The new sky – always new. Unto which we cry. And from which we’ll be born – reborn. Our second birth. Our real birth. In laughter. A laughter that tears open laughter. That opens it wide. That renders it abyssal.

A burning that is the real sky. A work of destruction that is the real sky. An explosion that is the real sky. A fury that is the real sky, and nothing but the real sky.

 

We have to tear their sky open. We have to destroy their chem-trailed sky. Their full-of-aluminium-and-barium sky. Their poisoned sky. From which poison rains down upon us.

 

The sky is blocked. Nothing we see up there is real.

The false sky hides the true sky. They’ve buried the real sky. They don’t want it. They don’t want to face it. They don’t want it to see them. To see through them. To sear through them. They didn’t want be x-rayed by the real sun. They don’t want their shame to be seen.